Nights Like This
by iamdkscully
Summary: That warning was something he could pay attention to some other day when he wasn't lucky to be alive and laying next to a beautiful woman. For now, he was going to enjoy this as much as he could and hope that there might be more nights like this in his future. (This is a series, but each chapter can stand alone.)
1. Anything But Solitude

**A/N : This story is a**** Secret Santa present for Cairistiona who said that her favorite song that reminds her of Jack and Sam is ****Bonfire Heart by James Blunt. Go...listen to it on YT...see, she is so right! Merry Shipmas! **

**Not one part of this series has been beta'd. All mistakes are my own.**

**Days like these lead to...  
Nights like this lead to  
Love like ours.  
You light the spark in my bonfire heart.  
People like us, we don't  
Need that much, just someone that starts,  
Starts the spark in our bonfire hearts**

**Chapter 1**

**Anything But Solitude**

He could feel the softness of the mattress beneath him and the blankets that covered him, but even as his body informed him that he should feel lucky to be able to feel anything at all, he shivered, his teeth began to chatter, and he awoke with the feeling that he would never be warm again.

"Colonel?"

He turned toward the voice of Janet Fraiser, the new CMO of the SGC, and slowly let his eyes open and adjust to the harsh white light of what he first thought was the infirmary. "Doc?" His voice was rough from disuse and the question was but a whisper.

"Hey. We've been wondering when you might join us again." She gently grabbed his wrist and began to check his vital signs as she talked. "How are you feeling?"

"Really? C'mon Doc. How do you think?"

"Mac truck?"

"Sounds about right." The scratchiness of his throat made him cough and Janet grabbed the cup of water from the table next to her and raised the back of the bed so that Jack was almost sitting up.

"Here, drink, slowly."

He did as he was told and cleared his throat when he was finished. "Thanks." Now fully awake, Jack took in his surroundings. "Uh, Doc? I don't think we're in Kansas anymore, are we?"

"No. McMurdo."

"Antarctica? How the hell did we get here?"

"It's a long story, Colonel. And I can tell it to you later. Now, why don't you get some more..."

He sat up, immediately regretting the quick action and grabbing his side. "Doc!" he wheezed, "Where's Carter?" The anxiety and slight panic in his question was unmistakable.

She gently pushed him back down to the bed. "She's fine. She's in the room next door. She was slightly hypothermic, tore a ligament in her knee, and has some cuts and bruises, but she is going to be fine. She's sleeping, and I suggest you do the same." She injected what was no doubt a sedative into his IV and slowly lowered the bed back down to a horizontal position.

Jack tried to protest, but the sedative worked quickly and he drifted off before he could say anything more.

It was several hours later when he awoke again with a feeling of warmth that only body-to-body contact could bring. He slowly fought the haziness brought on by the painkillers and opened his eyes. He had to blink several times before he cleared the haze and was able to believe what his eyes revealed. There, lying next to him in his bed was his 2IC. She was curled on her side with her bad leg laying over his good one. He could hear a slight wheezing noise as she breathed and see a sheen of sweat that covered her lip and brow. The doc had said she had some cuts and bruises, but she hadn't said that she was so pale, or feverish. He could feel the heat radiating off of her, no wonder he felt so warm. Jack moved to tuck her hair back behind her ear. It was damp.

"Sam?"

She stirred slightly and her brow crinkled as she whispered, "Colonel?"

"Not that I'm not happy to see you Captain, but whatcha doin'?" He kept his tone light as she struggled awake. "Carter? You okay?"

"Sir?" She was truly having a problem getting herself to wake up and focus on what he was saying. "Sir, whysit so cold?"

He pulled his blankets over her and pressed the call button. When the nurse appeared in the doorway, he immediately asked for her to send for Doctor Fraiser, and it only took a few minutes before Janet hurried into the room. She stopped for a moment as she reached Jack's bed and saw that Sam was lying there with him. "Colonel?"

"I dunno, Doc. I woke up and she was here. She doesn't look so good and when she was awake a minute ago, she was complaining about the cold but she's burning up."

Janet looked closely at her sleeping friend noting her pallor as well as the dampness of her face and hair. She lay her hand on Sam's forehead and almost pulled it back; she didn't need a thermometer to tell her that Sam was running a fever. She frowned as she checked her breathing and reached for the call button herself.

"Doc?"

"She's running a fever and there's a crackle in her lungs. Probably pneumonia setting in. Not surprising considering the condition the two of you were found in." The duty nurse appeared again and Janet gave her instructions to restart an IV with additional antibiotics and put Sam on oxygen until her next assessment.

The nurse stood for a moment looking slightly perplexed. "Do you want me to call a orderly to help get Captain Carter back to her room, Ma'am?"

Janet smiled. "Not necessary. She can stay where she is. It will save us the time and effort of trying to keep her in her own bed again."

The nurse left to gather the supplies. Jack looked up at Janet who was still smiling. "You sure this is a good idea, Doc? Not that it's not a bad arrangement, but don't you think she'd be more comfortable in her own bed?"

"Normally, I'd agree, but this is the third time we've found her in here in the last 8 hours. It's a natural reaction to trauma, Colonel. After the days like these last few have been for the two of you, you've formed quite a bond. She's missing you and unless you're physically uncomfortable, I for one and willing to exploit that bond if it's going to keep both of my patients happy and help with their recovery. We'll keep a close eye on her symptoms and you let us know if anything else seems amiss, deal?"

Jack had no comeback. No smart retort. In fact, if he wasn't confined to his bed because of his broken bones, he'd reach out and hug the woman.

When the nurse had gotten Sam situated and made sure that both Jack and Sam were comfortable, he found he could stop staring at the blonde beauty next to him. He hadn't realized how much he needed to be close to her after they'd been brought back, but something had just seemed wrong since he woke up. He'd felt like something was missing. He knew now that what he had been missing was this. As he closed his eyes and let the feeling of contentment wash over him, as Sam snuggled close to his side, he chose to ignore the faint alarm that had started to go off in the back of his brain. _That_ warning was something he could pay attention to some other day when he wasn't lucky to be alive and laying next to a beautiful woman. For now, he was going to enjoy this as much as he could and hope that there might be more nights like this in his future.


	2. A Matter of Lines

**A Matter of Lines**

"Please don't leave me!"

She flung herself up into a sitting position as the scream faded on her lips. She shivered as the cool night breeze brushed past her damp skin and pulled her knees up, wrapping herself around them in an effort to push the nightmarish thoughts away. She turned to look at the clock by her bed. 0330. She sighed as she let herself relax. It had been a week since SG-1 was ordered to take some down time while Colonel O'Neill recovered and they all let their brains and bodies catch up with once again being back in their regular space and time.

Sam had spent her week off avoiding her teammates and her friends. Even Janet had only managed one 20-minute visit and that was only because she threatened to pull rank if Sam didn't let her in to talk. She didn't know what anyone wanted to talk to her about. She'd heard the rumors, the whispers. People were talking about how heartless she was, how cold. How maybe the snake changed her, took over her emotions, made her a little less sympathetic.

_Maybe I'm __**not**__ human anymore_.

She tried to think what had brought on her line of thinking as she watched the black hole behind Henry Boyd and his team. How had she let her curiosity trump the horror of what they were seeing on camera? She had regretted the words as they left her mouth and truly hated herself when the Colonel gave her that stone-faced look and admonished her for speaking them.

_Was_ she unsympathetic? She knew she'd been distant and indifferent since Jolinar died but she never truly thought that she'd been acting less _human_. Had she? And what about her dad? He's one of them now because of her. More whispers, more stares. People wondering out loud and loudly about how she could volunteer her own father to be a host and what did they really know about her connection to the Tok'ra anyway?

She ran her hands through her still damp hair and slipped out of bed and into the bathroom. She lost track of the time as she stood in the shower, the water hot enough to have turned her pale skin beet red. She heard the scream again, _"No, Jack! Please, don't leave me!"_ She sank to the floor, tasting salt in the water running down her face and stayed there until the water ran cold.

Jack O'Neill couldn't sleep. He'd been laying in bed for quite some time staring at the ceiling in the dim, early morning light. The events of the last week continued to haunt him. His thoughts betrayed the exterior chill he'd displayed since his release from the infirmary. Guilt is a strange and illogical thing. Whether because of his inability to forgive Cromwell or his inability to forgive himself for not stopping the man from sacrificing himself he wasn't sure, but he felt it all the same. And his team. He'd been anything but forthcoming to them about the entire experience and while the stress of trying to save Boyd and his team mounted and mixed with the mudslide of emotions Cromwell had evoked, his team had had to tolerate the surliness the situation provoked.

A half hour later, he found himself sitting on the deck, wrapped in an old quilt, sipping his last beer. He'd grabbed the phone on his way out the door and stared at it laying in his hand. Barely 0400. He could call Daniel, but then he'd have to actually explain why he was up and talk about the real reasons behind his sleeplessness. Teal'c? Nah. He might as well continue talking to himself. His list of friends being what it was these days really only left one more option but he couldn't bring himself to dial _her_ number. She'd had to endure the brunt of his ire throughout the entire ordeal and he couldn't imagine she'd be up to speaking to him. He hadn't meant to sound so sharp when she brought up the scientific merit to what they were being allowed to witness, his concern and guilt over sending Boyd and the rest of SG-10 to their deaths had made him lash out and she was as good a target as any at the time. Then, even though they were following orders from The Powers That Be, everyone placed the unrealistic expectation on her that she would "figure something out." Lucky for him and the rest of the world, she did.

He lay back in the chair and watched as the sky started its slow fade from black to gray. He was still holding the phone and, startled by the noise, almost dropped it when it rang. "Carter?"

"Sir?" She fumbled for a moment. He'd answered on the first ring and known it was her? "I hope I didn't wake you."

He heard the sadness and guilt in her tone and he hoped his smile came through in his voice. "Not a long list of people lining up who could get away with calling me at this hour Carter. Call it a lucky guess. So...couldn't sleep?"

"Not exactly."

He knew what that meant. Unlike his restlessness and inability to shut off his brain, she'd most likely been dealing with dreams that were less than appealing. Nightmares were nothing new to him, but he had hoped this job wouldn't have given her so many demons to deal with so soon.

"Wanna talk about it? Orrr we could just hang out here, on the phone?" That at least earned him what was almost a laugh.

She let the silence settle in before speaking again. "I think..." she paused and cleared her throat, "I think...I'm mad at you, Sir."

His brain immediately began running scenarios through his head trying desperately to figure out what faux pas he must have committed, recently. "Me? Like me, me or Colonel O'Neill me? Throw me a bone here?"

"A little bit of both." She paused again torn between apologizing again and hanging up or telling him that she couldn't stop thinking about their conversation when she was locked in a cell. "Your conversation with Cromwell."

"What?"

"When you were in the control room. I was there."

"_I thought you were dead!"_

"_You thought wrong! What do you want? You want me to forgive you is that it?"_

"_Yeah, I guess I do."_

_"Well, that's tough. What happened to 'nobody gets left behind'?"_

"_Well what about him?"_

"_That is a totally different scenario."_

"_That is the same damn thing, Jack."_

He shook his head to remove the images of Cromwell letting go and falling into oblivion. "Look, Carter, I don't know what you think you heard..."

"I understand. I understand your anger at the whole situation. Everything went FUBAR and Cromwell was in charge so he took the brunt of your anger and your pain but I'm wondering, did it feel good? The yelling? Because it sounded like it felt really good."

He tried to keep up with her as her thoughts tumbled out, tried to figure out where this all was coming from.

"I yelled you know. No one heard me but I yelled. I _screamed_ for someone, anyone, to help, to see that it wasn't really me and when I finally got the chance, I _begged_ you to listen. I _begged_ you not to leave me behind. But you did it anyway." Her voice broke, "I know why you did it. I know it was a command decision and that it was made to protect the most lives and ensure the best outcome. My head knows that, Sir, but you left me and just as you watched that chopper leave without you, I watched you close that door and leave me alone with the enemy."

His chest was tight as he let her words sink in. He'd known something was not quite right and he'd heard the sheer panic as she yelled his name but instead of listening to his friend, he listened to the fear and the anger and the guilt at letting something like this happen. He couldn't afford to give her the benefit of the doubt, not then, not if it meant making the same mistake again.

She took a deep breath and cleared her throat again as she swiped an errant tear from her cheek. "I am sorry, Sir. I didn't call you to yell at you."

"Well," he paused to clear the gruffness from his own throat, "do you feel better?"

She smiled and he could hear the change in her voice when she replied, "I think I do."

"Then it was worth the beheading. Look, Sam, I know I've screwed up and I can't promise that I won't do it again. In fact, the one thing I'm sure of is that it will happen again. This job has shown us so many crazy, wonderful, terrifying things and there's nothing that we can count on out there but each other. We've learned that the hard way. So, I'm sorry, Sam, please believe that."

He heard her take a deep breath and then another, less shaky than the first, and a sense of calm came over him. They'd be okay.

She grabbed the quilt off the back of the couch and made her way to the swing on the front porch. She tucked her feet up under her and sighed. "I will always have your six, Sir. I hope you know that. And, Jack, I understand and I will forgive you because if I don't, I will regret it. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon and for the rest of..."

"Ah geez, Carter, now you're gonna go all _Casablanca_ on me?"

She giggled. It was then that he realized that nights like these, no matter how ugly, no matter how necessarily painful, were worth every moment if they ended with her laughter.

"C'mon, Carter, watch the sunrise with me."

He stretched out, once again turning his attention to the changing colors of the horizon. "Carter?"

"Here sir, I'm right here."


	3. Nothing's Ever Black & White

**Nothing's Ever Black &amp; White**

She couldn't wrap her brain around it. She knew it wasn't him speaking. Couldn't be. The Colonel she knew, would never say something so callous. The Colonel she knew would be honest, say something blatant and outright, but he'd never be deliberately mean and hurtful for no apparent reason.

"_Sir?"_

"_What?"_

"_Is there anything I can do?"_

"_About?"_

"_Well sir, with respect, you aren't exactly acting like yourself."_

"_No, Carter. I haven't been acting like myself since I met you. Now I'm acting like myself."_

Maybe she was taking it too much to heart. After all, he'd been through a lot in the last few months. _"You miss him."_ She shook her head and pushed the thought aside as she pushed aside her laptop deciding it was best to call it a night. She was too tired to think about it. She was too tired for much of anything anymore. She was turning out the light and getting ready to lock the door when Janet's face appeared around the corner.

"Hey Sam."

"No need to check up on me Janet, see. Laptop closed, lights out, and," she slid the key card through the reader, "door locked."

Her friend cocked her head to one side, looking at her closely."You okay?"

"Yeah. Fine. I was just on my way to see you." Sam smiled at her and sighed. "C'mon, let's get this over with."

He watched as Carter locked up her lab and made her way down the hall with Janet. Her frequent visits to Level 21 hadn't gone unnoticed. Hammond had of course filled him in on what had happened while he was stuck on Edora, so he knew that SG-1 was grounded now that he'd returned from his "secret mission" until Carter was cleared for gate travel again. The only reason Janet had let her go to Edora to retrieve him in the first place was because she had been afraid for Sam's health and she knew that after everything that she'd been through, her friend desperately _needed_ to see for herself that the Colonel was indeed alright. But, as soon as the team was back on solid Earth, she'd grounded them all except for him. Like everyone else involved in that damned covert operation, she'd had no choice as to whether he stayed or went regardless of her medical opinion.

Daniel and Teal'c, while hardly speaking to him, had managed to convey their distaste of the situation and make sure that he was well aware of the fact that he was "an insensitive jerk" for not even thanking Sam for getting him home in the first place so that he could then turn around and treat them _all_ like crap. He'd been forced to betray them and he'd done it well. Despite their understanding about the job he'd had to do, he knew that forgiveness would not be forthcoming.

He ran a hand through his silvering hair and sighed. This was the side of the military that had given him grief all of his career. They say you have to be a special kind of lunatic to participate in covert and black ops and despite his extensive career, he had never quite fit the stereotype of that kind of officer. He couldn't detach, couldn't ignore the human factor involved in every mission he'd had to carry out. And despite how things seem to play out, he cared too much about his team which is why his treatment of them over the last few weeks hurt him just as much as it had hurt them. His stomach churned as his head replayed that hallway conversation. _"I haven't been myself since I met you, Carter..."_

It was true.

He'd changed in ways he'd never thought possible over the last few years. It had started with Daniel and Catherine and that strange and amazing first mission to Abydos. Since then, things had only gotten stranger but he was here, he was alive, and he was loving what life now had to offer. His job. His career. His team. And Carter? Well, truth be told he had been apprehensive about her in the beginning but she'd proven herself fast and her friendship had become important to him. He didn't want to acknowledge just how much he valued her friendship and he didn't want this last mission and his stupidity to jeopardize things any more than they already had.

He stopped walking when he became aware of where his thoughts had taken him and he knocked on the door in front of him, willing there to be an answer. It was only after he had knocked a second time that he realized that she probably wasn't back from her visit with Frasier. He stood frozen for a moment, not quite sure what to do. Should he wait?

"Sir?"

He started and spun around to see her standing behind him. _Losing your touch, O'Neill?_ He cleared his throat, "Carter."

"Did you need something?" Her tone told him she'd do what he asked but didn't really care to at the moment.

"Can we go inside?"

"Sir?"

"I need to say some things, Carter and I'd prefer to say them only to you. So, can we _please_ go inside?"

"Yes, Sir." She moved around him to swipe her card, opened the door, and held it open for him. "So."

"Yeah. Look, Carter, I know you're pissed as hell at me right now and the last thing you really want is to stand here talking to me so I'll make it quick...I'm sorry."

She stood with her back resting against the closed door, arms crossed. Strangely, he couldn't read her as she locked him in a glare. She seemed to be trying to decipher what he'd just said as well and after a few moments she dropped her arms and shrugged. "That's it?" She pushed off the door and took a step towards him, "Wow. Thanks. Now, if you don't mind Colonel, I'd like to get some sleep."

He caught her arm as she tried to step past him.

"Carter! Wait. I know it's a lame ass apology, but you have got to know that it's the truth, I _am_ sorry."

She shrugged off his hand. "Do I? Because I don't seem to be so good at reading people these days, least of all _you_. See, the person I thought I knew would have talked to me. He would have let me know that he was okay, that he'd missed his life, and that he was glad to get back to it. The person I thought I knew would not have turned around and made me question _everything_ I'd done." She sat down on the edge of the bed and looked up at him. He could see the exhaustion, the confusion, and the hurt he'd caused swirling in her bright blue eyes. He took a step toward the bed and sat down beside her.

"Sam, thank you for bringing me home. I appreciate everything you did to get me back. I _am_ glad to be here. And, I know it never would have happened without you. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me because I don't think I'll ever forgive myself for what I've done."

She turned and saw the anguish in his features. Something more than his guilt over the wedge he'd driven between them was there. Something she couldn't quite figure out. "Jack?"

Barely a whisper, it was enough to break his resolve.

"I gave up Carter. I gave up on the SGC. I gave up on you and Daniel and Teal'c. I gave up on the possibility of ever coming home. I gave up and then I tried to settle for something less with the hope that it would _help_ me forget. That's why I couldn't say thank you. I couldn't look you in the face and admit that when I saw Teal'c's face through that hole in the ground, I got my life back and all I could think about was how I didn't deserve it."

A familiar and comfortable silence fell between them and she placed her hand over his where it lay on the bed. "Thank you."

"What?"

"Thank you for your "lame ass" apology." She smiled at him and something moved inside him. There was a look in her eyes that he hadn't seen in a very long time. A look that he'd missed a lot more than he wanted to admit. A look that he knew might spell trouble for them down the road, a look that he knew that he returned ten fold.

He cleared his throat. "Yeah, well, I should go." He squeezed her hand as he got up to leave. "You know, you should get some sleep, Carter, you look like hell."

She sniggered as he opened the door. "Looked in any mirrors lately yourself, sir?"

"Touche, Carter, touche." He pulled the door shut behind him with a "Goodnight" and turned in the direction of his own quarters, planning to take advantage of the peace this night had to offer.


	4. Off on a Tangent

**Off on a Tangent**

She pulled off the headset and let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. It hadn't worked. It hadn't worked and now they had no other viable options. All of the amazing technologies and advanced peoples they've met in their travels through the Stargate and no one could help. She forced herself out of the control room come mission control and made her way down the hall. She had to be missing something. There had to be a way to fix this. She'd helped design the damn plane in the first place. She stopped and pulled open the Ladies' room door so hard that it slammed back at her as she ducked inside before letting the tears she'd been fighting finally fall. She couldn't stand this damned helpless feeling. There just had to be something she was missing...

xxxxxxxxxx

If you had to choose a way to die, freezing to death and suffocating in space weren't the worst of options. Staff blasts, bullet wounds, and hand devices were definitely at the top of the list of fates he hoped to avoid. But, as he sat shivering, he was hoping that the lack of oxygen would trump the colder-than-Antarctic freeze that was currently going on in the cockpit. Been there, done that! And this time he had no blonde-haired, blue-eyed captains or majors to keep him alive with their giggling and talk of his sidearm.

Jack laughed, grateful at the moment that Teal'c was deep in kel'no'reem and he wouldn't have to explain his giggling. But just like that, the grin was gone, as was his thought, as Jack took a deep breath and fogged up the cockpit window. He drew a smiley in the fog but it couldn't bring back his own.

She was stumped. He could tell by the defeated tone of her last transmission. And since he hadn't heard her voice in hours? days? she must be holed up somewhere trying to figure out what the hell went wrong. His thoughts went on random shuffle as he felt the effects of the hypoxia grow worse. He wasn't sure how long ago he'd talked to Hammond or Davis but since he could barely form a coherent sentence anyway, he'd decided to sleep to conserve energy. She was there as his eyes closed and his lips turned up once more. She was there? Wait...

"Dammit Colonel! We haven't come all this way to take you home in a box, now wake up!"

"Carter?"

Everything was such a blur after that. One minute he was enveloped by the harsh coldness of space and the next thing he knew he was in warm arms. Wait, what? He pulled open his eyes. Lying next to him with her arm draped over his chest and her face curled into his shoulder was one blonde-haired, blue-eyed major and God she was a beautiful sight to behold. He fought to regain control of his limbs and reached up to lay a hand on her cheek.

"Jack."

Crap. "Jacob? That you?"

"You know damn well it's me, Jack. May I ask just what you think you are doing?" He stood a few feet away scowling at Jack in the shadows.

"Brain damage."

"Excuse me?"

"You now that hypoxiputy, it scrambled my brain a bit. It's Carter's fault, Sam, Sam's fault, cuz if I say Carter's fault you might think I'm talking about you and you know I wasn't trying to blame you, I just... what?"

Jacob couldn't help but grin at him. Damn if this man wasn't smitten. Not that his daughter didn't return that sentiment. "Calm down, Jack. She said you had a thing about the cold and figured you'd rather snuggle with her than cuddle with Daniel." He stepped further into the room so that Jack could see his smirk, "I can see that she was right."

Jack tried to move without disturbing Sam, but she had moved her leg and it was now intertwined with his and her arm didn't look like it would be that heavy, but it seemed to pin him in place rather well. He looked at Jacob wearing a look of "help" that Jacob just wasn't buying. "Relax, Jack. Go back to sleep. I didn't see anything."

You didn't? Right. You didn't. Thanks, _Dad_."

Jacob sighed as he watched the mixture of emotions wash across Jack's face as he looked at his daughter lying next to him. "Let me give you a little advice, _son_. Days like these seem to happen more and more in our line of work, don't waste nights like this." He walked back to the cockpit leaving Jack to his thoughts.

Jack closed his eyes, pulled his major just a little bit closer, and felt her tighten their embrace.


	5. Desperate Times

**A/N: Things may start to go **_**slightly**_** off-canon.**

**Desperate Times**

The gunshot wound was superficial and though he'd been cleared by the hospital in Seattle, Janet insisted that he stay overnight in the infirmary. Any other time, he knew that she would have let him go, sent him home and out of her hair, but she knew he'd want to be here anyway and made the decision easy for him by not giving him any decision at all.

Daniel and Teal'c had both been ushered out under orders to get a full night's sleep or be sedated. Though neither wished to comply, years of experience had taught them not to test the resolve of one small but fiery doctor. Jack had laughed as they'd skulked out of the infirmary, a part of him longing for sleep as well. He was currently staring at the curtain that separated his bed from Carter's. He'd been staring ever since Janet had disappeared behind it again. He knew that Sam was in no immediate danger and that Janet was just performing another routine check on her, but his anxiety was still running high. He'd been stuck getting his own medical evaluation and unable to see her since their return to the SGC. Janet had access to Sam limited to her medical staff until she was sure that she was not in any danger from the drugs she'd been exposed to during her captivity the week before. So Jack was left staring at shadows and wishing that Superman hadn't cornered the market on the ability to see through walls.

She was shivering.

Janet said she was still in shock, that her body and her mind were trying to play catch up and recover from the abuse she'd suffered. She remembered little of the last week because of her captors use of heavy sedatives. Her blood chemistry had made it difficult for them to find a dosage that would keep her both conscious and compliant. And though she'd been asked about the things that the doctors in custody had revealed about what had happened, she was grateful that she hadn't yet been fully debriefed. Trying to focus on the gaps in her memory, though, was more than a little frightening. _They could have done anything to me._ She closed her eyes to flashes of faces looming before her.

"Sam?"

She jumped when she heard Janet say her name and couldn't help the tears that sprang to her eyes. Sam grabbed Janet's arm, pale fingers fisting the white lab coat into her hand. "Janet. I want to go home."

Janet lay her free hand over Sam's fist rubbing gently as she spoke. "I know you do sweetie but I need you to stay for a couple of hours at least, maybe overnight. We have to make sure that all of the drugs are out of your system or at the very least that they are metabolizing." Her look and tone softened again as she processed the hurt in her friend's eyes. "Sam, I promise that I will let you go just as soon as possible, okay?"

The fear she could see at the thought of staying in the infirmary broke Janet's heart. Knowing that_ she_ was the cause of that fear made her sick to her stomach. Her mind raced with terrible images of what might have happened to her friend during the past week. Her initial exam revealed not much more than bumps and bruises along with the plethora of needle marks and traces of heavy sedatives used to keep Sam compliant. Her main reason for wanting Sam to stay was to give her a chance to get some real rest before the barrage of tests she knew she'd have to perform and the incessant questions that would begin as soon as Janet released her.

She held Sam's hand between her own and tried to reassure her."I know it's hard to relax, but you're safe here, you know that. Now, I want you to try and get some rest. I'll be back in a little while, alright?"

Sam nodded and rolled over to face the wall. She pulled her knees to her chest and curled herself into a ball. She'd been restrained for almost all of the week she'd spent in St. Catherine's and her limbs were sore but she was grateful for the mobility she now possessed. Exhausted but unwilling to surrender to sleep, she focused her eyes on the wall, staring instead at a spot of bubbling paint, daring it to flake and fall under her gaze. It was an insignificant thing, the paint. No one cared if it flaked and fell to the ground, yet it stubbornly clung to the wall as she stubbornly clung to her sanity.

Jack lay staring at the curtain until Janet emerged and gave him a nod of encouragement. The pain in his arm was but a dull ache thanks to the painkillers but his body felt stiff and disjointed as he maneuvered himself off of his bed. He took about three steps toward where Sam lay before gently saying her name.

"Carter?"

She knew by his tone that he was asking if it was alright to come in. She loved that about him. As she lay here in the infirmary, he had every right as her commanding officer to simply walk in and demand a report on her condition or to order Janet to share her medical status. But that was a right he reserved for the uncertainty of emergencies, when he let his fear for his team drive his actions more than his command training. She wasn't in any immediate danger, at least not physically, so he approached with caution in case she wanted to be left alone. Which was exactly what she wanted, or so she thought.

"Carter?" The question was quieter this time. She could pretend not to hear, to be asleep, or just ignore him and she knew that he would retreat and respect her wishes if she didn't respond.

A sigh escaped as she finally answered. "You can come in, Sir."

He slowly pulled the curtain aside just enough to make it through and pulled it closed behind him. She lay facing the wall so he walked around the bed to sit in the chair that was in front of her. Trying to force her to look at him so he could get a good look at her, he made sure he was almost directly in her line of sight. She looked so small. With her knees pulled tight to her chest, she lay there staring at the wall, her sure and steady breathing the only sound between them. He noticed a slight tremor in her hands and he watched as she hid them under her pillow. Whether it was the drugs, or her nerves, he didn't know but he'd add that to the list of questions for Janet to answer for him later.

Though his presence was comforting, she refused to look directly at him. She knew that if she did, that if he could see her eyes, he'd be able to see what a true mess she was right now. He'd see the helpless woman who couldn't defend herself no matter how hard she had tried, not the strong soldier she should have been to prevent herself from being taken in the first place.

"Stop it, Carter."

He said it with enough authority to make her finally look at him. Her eyes found his and he confirmed the thoughts swirling beneath their surface. His hand moved to rest on the top of her head, smoothing her hair back away from her pale face. They both closed their eyes, allowing themselves a moment to affirm their physical connection. And when he finally spoke, his voice carried none of the admonishment she had feared. "This was _not_ your fault, Carter. None of this was preventable. And unarmed, there was nothing you could have done to stop it. No matter what level of hand-to-hand you have, you were outnumbered and then you were incapacitated. You have got to stop blaming yourself for being trapped in a situation that was completely out of your control. It was not...your...fault."

Her eyes glistened as she watched his face harden in anger as he spoke of her abduction and her captors and then soften again as his eyes locked with hers.

She let his warmth spread through her, but she could not hold his gaze. "None of this would have happened if I'd listened to you in the first place."

Unsure of where her thoughts had turned, he prompted her to explain."I know I'm unusually dense on a good day, Carter, but what the hell are you talking about?"

He had to lean in closer hear her reply. "Nasya. If I hadn't stopped to help...hadn't given mouth-to-mouth to that man...this wouldn't have happened. I was just the ends to their means, Jack. An insignificant lab rat."

"Carter, you see people who are hurt and you try to help, that's part of who you are. And, like it or not, Jolinar is a part of you now too. A part of you that you've managed to use to our advantage on more than one occasion. A part of you that has made you a _better _person, not less of one."

She still refused to look up at him. His hand moved from her hair to her chin, lifting her gaze back to his own. "We'll get through this."

"I've never been afraid like this before." Her voice broke as she lost constraint and the tears she'd been so desperately fighting were freed.

Ignoring the twinge in his arm as he stood, Jack moved from his chair to the bed and wrapped his good arm around her shoulders."C'mere" He sat holding her for several minutes before gently speaking again. "Sam, nights like this are rare. Sometimes the universe, God, whatever or whomever is out there, will give us this blink-of-an-eye glimpse at the truth in our lives. It's painful and it's frightening, but it reminds us that we're alive. And forces us to stop pretending."

There'd been so many times since their zatarc confessions that she'd imagined moments like this. Wrapped in his arms she felt a safety and assurance that she'd thought she'd lost, that they'd taken from her. She lifted her head off his chest and looked up at him smiling at the commitment displayed behind his eyes and she knew it was the same as the conviction in her heart. An unspoken confirmation of what always lay hidden just beneath the surface.

"What if…," her question faded as he reached up to caress her cheek.

"I can't promise that 'what if' won't happen, Sam. I can only assure you that if it does, I will stop at nothing to get you back home to me."

She turned her face and kissed the palm of his hand before laying her head once more against his chest. Safe and loved, she slept, dreaming only of the future.


End file.
